Two's Company
by LM
Summary: They're not the Injustice League. They're not the Secret Society of Supervillains. But they're BAD, man. How bad? Well, Kite-Man is a member. Oh, that wasn't the kind of bad you meant? Oh well . . .
1. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes:**

All I wanted to do is write a little Justice League fanfic, perhaps based on the animated series. I just needed a few villains for them to battle, that's all. And then my subconscious pulls _this_ on me. Rainbow Raider. Signalman. KITE-MAN, for crying out loud! The right lobe of my brain provided a kind of mental giggle in the background as it urged, "Go on. You know you want to. RAINBOW RAIDER, LM. It'll be great."

What can I say? I'm weak-willed. I gave in. ^_^

Where this story is going I'm not really sure. Like I said, originally I just wanted some guys to fight the animated version of the Justice League, but now I'm tempted, sorely tempted, to pit them against Morrison's "Big Seven" JLA. Just because I'm EVIL, I guess. ^_~

A few side notes for the truly crazed comic fan:

- When I was researching the characters, I found some sites that said Crazy Quilt was blind and some that said he was _color_blind. I went with colorblind. If that was wrong . . . well, I guess I'll have to face the wrath of the Crazy Quilt Fan Club. Or slap an Elseworlds label on this thing. ^_~

- Originally I was going to use Corrosive Man in the 'fic, but then I decided I needed a youthful element, so I substituted in his son, Corrosive Kid. Of course, the catch is that there isn't actually a Corrosive Kid in the official DC universe. Oh well! ^_^

- Although I don't have any actual comics featuring Crazy Quilt offhand, I don't think he was actually supposed be quite as crazy as I made him. I'm unrepentant. He's a joy to write. *G* Anyway, there IS an explanation for his sudden and complete lack of mental incompetence . . . it comes up later. (It's not an important plot point or anything, but there IS a reason. ^_^) 

Well, that's it for now. The identity of the narrator gone into later, as are the costumes and abilities of the characters, in case you aren't familiar with some of them.

Not that you forgot _Kite-Man_, did you?

I mean, how could you forget a great villain like that?

~LM~  
parasol13@yahoo.com

"What are the odds of a guy from the future grabbing an armful of technology and going back in time to become a superhero? What are the odds of an inventor named Ted Kord building this bug, calling himself the Blue Beetle, and fighting crime in his longjohns? Don't you get it, Booster? _The more unlikely something is, the more inevitable it becomes!"_ - the Blue Beetle


	2. Chapter One

  


**Chapter One**

  
Our first meeting was a disaster and it was all Kite-Man's fault. 

Yeah, maybe the Red Hand of Creeping Doom was the best name we'd come up with so far--narrowly beating out the Super-Secret Legion of Badness and the Nefarious Deathmongers--but you really couldn't fault Rainbow Raider for objecting. 

And okay, calling the name "chromatically-biased" was going a bit far, but I can see where the whole "Red Hand" thing would grate on a guy who started a life of crime because he was colorblind. 

Of course, Dr. Spectro had to throw in his two cents. "We should call ourselves 'Evil International,'" he announced.

"But we're operating out of America," Signalman pointed out. "So we wouldn't actually _be_ international."

"So what? It sounds cool." Dr. Spectro crossed his arms. 

"That's stupid," Corrosive Kid said. 

"At least 'Evil International' is a name that doesn't discriminate against the handicapped," said Rainbow Raider. 

"The handi_able!"_ Crazy Quilt said brightly. 

"'Evil International'--my God," Kite-Man rolled his eyes. "Just what I'd expect from Rainbow Brite and the Color Kids." 

That did it. Before you could say "super villain rumble", Rainbow Raider was leaping across the dining room table to tackle Kite-Man. Signalman tried to pull Raider off and was himself tackled by Dr. Spectro. For the finishing touch, Crazy Quilt slugged Corrosive Kid--just for the hell of it, I guess, since CK was just standing there gaping at Raider and Kite-Man. 

I'll say one thing about supervillains--they don't do things by halves. Within thirty seconds, Kite-Man had broken one of the flimsier dining room chairs across Rainbow Raider's head, Signalman had set the sofa on fire, and the acid from Corrosive Kid's wrist bands were eating through the floor. All this against a disco-like backdrop of flashing lights, mind you, provided by Rainbow Raider's weird goggles and Dr. Spectro's gun. I looked at the thin pool of green liquid sizzling through the floor and foresaw my rent going up. _If_ I wasn't evicted outright. 

"--should've stayed smart and stayed down, rainbow-freak!" 

"You won't feel so smug after you get a dose of my BLUE SADNESS BEAM, you two-bit--" 

"--not even a real villain, you loser! You stole your 'Spectro' gig from that guy in Captain Atom's autobiography!" 

"At least my arch-nemisis is a guy with superpowers instead of an _urban legend!"_

"Crazy Quilt, what the heck are you--OOF!!!" 

"THEY LAUGHED! THEY LAUGHED AT ME BECAUSE I CANNOT SEE GREEN!" 

"Get off me, you maniac!!" Corrosive Kid managed to kick Crazy Quilt away, knocking him into the Rainbow Raider just as Raider was reaching up to activate his damn emotion-goggles again. I'm not entirely clear what color he was trying for--hell, I couldn't even remember which beam does what, aside from the blue-sadness thing--but his fingers jerked on the controls as Crazy Quilt crashed into his back and he ended up sweeping everyone with dark indigo rays of light as he went down. In the ensuing chaos, I barely caught the sound of someone knocking at the door. 

Everyone but Raider and Crazy Quilt was on the floor laughing like a loon by the time I managed to work my way over to the door. It was a small apartment, but having to manuever around a hissing pool of acid, incapcitated supervillains, and a burning couch can really slow a guy down. 

I only opened the door a crack, half expecting a confrontation with the police or, worse, the landlord. "Hello?" 

"I've got some pizzas here for a Mr. Glade?" A pimply teenager stood on the other side of the door, clutching two flat red and white boxes and peering at me from under an oversized hat. "Two extra-large pizzas with pepperoni, onions, and--" 

"Yeah." I opened the door a bit wider. "That was me. Hang on a sec" I pulled the battered leather wallet out of my back pocket and began counting out bills, trying to ignore the maniacal laughter echoing behind me. 

"Um." The pizza boy stretched almost to tip-toes, staring over my shoulder. "Um . . . your couch is on fire. Maybe you should, like, call the fire department?" 

"No, no, everything's under control." I counted the bills in my wallet again, hoping some loaves-and-fishes type multiplication had occured in the last sixty seconds. "We were, um, testing the fire alarm. Looks like it needs new batteries." 

"If you say so, man . . ." The pizza-boy began shifting impatiently as he stared at the money in my hands. 

"Yeah, well . . . here's nine dollars, and . . ." I looked over my shoulder. "Hey, any of you guys have some extra cash?" 

"BUSY!" Rainbow Raider shrieked as he tried to smother the flames using the cape he'd ripped off Signalman. Everyone else was still on the floor incapacitated by gales of laugher with the exception of Crazy Quilt, who wandered over to the door. 

"Green is the color of greed!" he announced, pulling out a wad of cash. "That's what they tell me." 

"Uh, yeah . . . Sure, Quilt. Whatever." I glanced back to the pizza boy, who was openly gaping at Crazy Quilt--hardly a surprise since his costume consisted of a black suit with mismatched, uneven scraps of fabric rather poorly sewn to it--or, in a few cases, stapled into place. Oh well, as long as the pizza kid didn't call the police . . 

. "I'll pay you back later, all right?" I said. 

"They'll ALL pay . . . for their MOCKERY!" Crazy Quilt said pleasantly, handing me the entire roll of bills before meandering over to the kitchen area. 

"Eh heh . . . just my, um, brother-in-law . . . he's a little eccentric . . ." I explained as I picked out a few more bills and shoved them into his hand. "Keep the change," I added as I slammed the door shut. ("The change" only added up to eighty-two cents but hey, times were tough. Later it turned out that half the toppings were screwed up anyway, so I think I was justified.) "Now to take care of . . . oh . . . my . . . GOD! My COUCH!" 

"Hehehe . . . s-sorry!" Corrosive Kid was still fighting off a giggle fit. "R-Rainbow Raider couldn't d-douse it, so I--HAHAHA--had to . . . " 

"I can SEE what you did," I managed as my fists slowly clenched and unclenched. He'd melted it. He'd MELTED the damn thing. Sure, the flames had gone out . . . after the couch was turned into a pitted, sizzling pile of half-formed goo. The few recognizable fibers of the fabric were currently melting into nothingness. Oh well . . . at least now I didn't have to feel bad about not getting it reupholstered. 

"Hang on a minute, guys." Rainbow Raider was fiddling with the dial on the side of his goggles again. "This CLEAR BEAM should return you to normal. Sorry about that." 

"You s-should be--HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Kite-Man doubled over again, arms wrapped around his gut as he tried to hold in his mirth. 

"Oops. Hang on, forgot to adjust the spectrum frequency . . ." More fiddling with the headgear. "There." 

"Heh heh h--aHEM. Better. Much better." Kite-Man straightened. "Anyway, like I was saying . . . thanks to your stunt, we're way behind schedule." 

_"My_ stunt? It's not my fault your buddy threw Crazy Quilt into my back!" 

"And what's with this 'schedule' business?" Dr. Spectro added. "God, you Gotham villains are so _uptight._ Probably comes from trying to fight a guy who DOESN'T EXIST." 

Great. Just great. Kite-Man, Corrosive Kid, and Signalman were bristling and I was already out a dining room chair and a couch, not to mention part of the floor, from the clash two minutes ago. "Look guys, why don't we just skip the team name for now and plan our first big . . . heist or whatever," I suggested. 

They shifted and nodded reluctantly, eyeing each other warily as they shuffled back to the dining room table . . . but at least they _came._ I pulled up a footstool for myself, since we were now out a chair. Better than giving them a chance to snarl over it; supervillains are all about posturing. They're total hams. Why else would these guys commit crimes dressed in gaudy, easily identifiable costumes? Think about it. 

"So . . . I think we should rob something," Corrosive Kid began. "A bank, maybe." 

"Can't go wrong with a bank," Signalman agreed. "Very traditional supervillain scheme." 

"Tradition, schmadition. The money inside is what interests me," Dr. Spectro smirked. 

"A bank works," Rainbow Raider nodded. "How about the First International one in Central City?" 

Everyone groaned. 

"WHAT?" Rainbow Raider demanded, throwing his hands in the air. "What's wrong with Central City?" 

"Dude, you're only saying that because you're a Flash villain," Corrosive Kid said. "Everyone knows that's his turf." 

"So you're saying we can't take the Flash? Is that it?" 

"He's saying why risk running into the speedy superdope? The kid's got good instincts, like his old man," Signalman said, patting Corrosive Kid's shoulder as the red-haired youth beamed proudly. 

Rainbow Raider raised an eyebrow. "His old man? Oh, right . . . Corrosive Man. The guy whose 'good instincts' have him rotting away in the slammer." 

"Hey! Don't talk about my dad that way!" Corrosive Kid began to rise to his feet, but Kite-Man caught his arm and pulled him back down. 

"Ignore him, kid. Raider's a bitter, bitter man." Kite-Man steepled his fingers. "Now . . . I say we pull a job in Gotham--" 

"Gotham is DARK," Crazy Quilt suddenly said. "Dark like thick swirls of Hershey's syrup twisting the soft white milk to dirty chocolate." He paused, tilting his head, oblivious to the fact that we were all staring at him. "Mmmm . . . chocolate . . ." His chair scraped as he stood up and headed for the kitchen. 

"Yes . . . well . . . I think I know what Crazy Quilt was trying to say in his own obscure way," Rainbow Raider said as Quilt began rummaging through the fridge. "In short, Gotham is a stinking cesspit of a city. Drugs, gangs, mob bosses, and cops who think the Miranda rights mean a lady dancing with fruit on her head. Let's face it, that city just isn't safe. Not even for supervillains." 

"What--the scary, scary streets of Gotham are too much for you? _Please."_ Kite-Man rolled his eyes. 

"I'm just saying--" 

"I'm surprised you would want to do a job in Gotham, Kitey. Isn't that where 'Batman'--" (Dr. Spectro actually made little quotation marks with his fingers,) "--hangs out? I'd hate to run into 'Batman'!" 

"Very cute, Spectro . . . although maybe slightly less cute to someone who's had limbs broken by the so-called urban legend," Signalman said drily. 

Corrosive Kid turned to Signalman with wide eyes. "You mean, Batman actually broke your--??" 

The red-suited villain shifted slightly. "Well . . . no. But I have a friend who--" 

"Dear God, it's the beginning of a 'friend of a friend' story!" Spectro raised his hands in the air in supplication. 

"Quiet down, all of you!" Kite-Man pounded his fist on the table. "As leader of this team, I say we go to--" An incredulous remark from Spectro cut him off. 

"LEADER?? Who made you--" 

"If _anyone_ is leader of this group, it's me," Rainbow Raider said flatly. 

"Is that so?" Kite-Man stared at Rainbow Raider. 

"Yes. Yes it is." Rainbow Raider stared back. 

"Well . . . why don't we put it to a vote, then? Unless . . ." Kite-Man paused significantly, "--you think you'd _lose."_

"Not at all. In fact, I was just about to suggest a vote," Raider said cooly. 

"Well, _I_ vote for Kite-Man!" Corrosive Kid announced. 

"Rainbow Raider," Dr. Spectro said. 

"Kite-Man," Signalman said. 

Everyone turned to Crazy Quilt, who was standing by the table quietly clutching a glass of chocolate milk. 

"Crazy Quilt . . . ?" Kite-Man prompted. 

"Uh?" He stopped blowing bubbles through his straw and looked up. 

_"You're_ from Gotham, aren't you, Crazy Quilt? Who put you away in Arkham? Dr. Spectro and Rainbow Raider don't even _believe_ in Batman!" 

"Now wait a minute, I never said _I_ didn't--" 

Kite-Man cute Rainbow Raider off. "You think I'd be a good leader, don't you? You'd never have to go back to Arkham again." 

"Arkham . . ." Crazy Quilt's fingers tightened around his glass and he pulled the chocolate milk close to him as he cast nervous glances at the shadows. 

"I'm going to make sure you never have to go back there," Rainbow Raider said firmly. "Trust me. Remember how they held you in the Belle Reve prison after you assaulted that paint store? And who was it who got you out during the prison riot?" 

Crazy Quilt dabbled his fingers in his glass and licked them off as he glanced from Kite-Man to Rainbow Raider. "Rainbow Raider and Dr. Spectro helped me get out of jail," he said at last, with an apologetic glance at Kite-Man. Kite-Man scowled; Rainbow Raider smirked and crossed his arms. 

"That puts us at a tie," Kite-Man said. "Unless . . . wait a minute . . ." Oh great, they had remembered me. Mentally I groaned as six pairs of eyes turned towards me. 

"Deuce . . . friend." Rainbow Raider had the kind of smile that used car dealers have perfected. "Did I mention how much I always admired your work on the Osthaiemer jewel heist?" 

"Don't listen to him, Deuce," Kite-Man interrupted. _"I_ have a benefit package for henchmen like you wouldn't believe!" 

"You," Raider said through a clenched smile, "have never had a henchman in your life, Kite-Boy." 

"That's Kite-MAN!" 

"The point stands! Whereas _I--"_

"Listen to you two!" I didn't mean to say anything, it just slipped out. "Arguing over who's going to be leader of this gang of . . . of . . . of . . ." Words failed me. (It was probably a good thing.) "Who cares?? What does it matter?? What difference does it make??" 

For about five seconds, they stared at me in silence; then Crazy Quilt spoke up. 

"When they're sentencing, the mastermind gets fifteen more years!" 

Kite-Man and Rainbow Raider stared at each other in dismay, obviously reassessing the situation. And of course Crazy Quilt had to open his big mouth again. 

"I think _Deuce_ would make a great leader," he beamed, patting me on the shoulder. 

"No. OH no." I held my hands up to ward off the unwanted nomination. "No no no. I'm only a henchman. I don't--" 

In retrospect, I shouldn't have protested so much. It took about five seconds for Kite-Man and Raider to reprioritize. 

"You know, Deuce, I've always believed in giving new blood a chance . . ." 

" . . . always thought you had _great_ leadership potential, Deuce. Just look at that Osthaiemer jewel dealie." 

"But . . . but . . ." 

"What do YOU think?" 

"Oh, I think we should let him have a go, definitely." 

"Ditto on that, Signalman!" 

"Same here; I mean, you can't be a henchman forever, right Deuce?" 

"But . . . but . . ." 

"And since it was Crazy Quilt's idea to begin with, that makes it unanimous," Rainbow Raider said with a wide smile. 

"But . . ." I struggled to get out a coherent sentence. "But I don't WANT to be--" 

"Ha ha! That's what I always liked about you, kid; you're such a joker!" Kite-Man said. (What he "always liked about me"? He'd only met me that day!) "Look, I've got to get home before the buses stop running, but why don't we meet tomorrow around two-ish? And I'll bring some papers with some . . . suggestions . . . for you." 

Rainbow Raider's eyes gleamed behind his orange goggles. "What an excellent idea, Kite-Man. I'm sure Deuce can benefit from the advice of someone with experience on these matters. I might just jot down a few scraps of wisdom for him myself." 

"Excellent." Kite-Man bared his teeth in a smile. "Tomorrow, then?" 

"Tomorrow. At two." He turned towards me as if remembering I was still there. "See you then . . . leader." He winked. 

"Uh . . . well, I guess that's it for tonight, then?" Signalman ventured. 

"I've gotta get home before my mom starts worrying anyway," Corrosive Kid confessed. _"Really_ worrying, I mean." 

"Tomorrow. Same bat-time, same bat-place," Spectro said with a grin at the Gotham City villains. 

"Tomorrow . . . right." I watched them file out, one by one. All but Crazy Quilt, who was just finishing off his chocolate milk. 

"Quilt?" He looked up at me, with a smile on his face and a milk mustache on his lip. "Aren't you going?" I asked tiredly. 

"Going?" He thought about it. "No. I think I'll stay here where it's nice and close." 

Wonderful. "And where were you planning on sleeping?" I asked, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. 

"The couch!" he said. 

"Crazy Quilt . . . there _is_ no couch. The couch burned up." 

"Ohhhhh . . ." He frowned at the remains of the couch, then looked at me. "The floor?" 

I suppressed a sigh. "I'll get you some blankets." I shook my head as I pulled some sheets from the hall closet. 

Why did I have a feeling that I was in way over my head? 

  



End file.
